


You Sold Your Soul

by PiratePlume



Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiratePlume/pseuds/PiratePlume
Summary: Reader was hand-selected by MJF three months prior after signing with AEW. The reader has begun to realize MJF is manipulating them by using their attraction and infatuation with him to keep them loyal to him. When they decide to ask if they can break away from MJF and go solo again, MJF persuades them to see the error of their ways.
Relationships: Maxwell Jacob Friedman/Reader, mjf/reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	You Sold Your Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a game I created on tumblr to challenge myself to write other wrestlers and to write situations I can't entirely control, as well as write fanfiction that is the wrestler x reader, where any gender or nongender should hopefully be able to insert themselves. The game is to have someone send me a wrestler and a number. I go into my music and hit shuffle as many times as the number and then write a fic based on the song chosen. For an added difficulty since I tend to be long-winded, I've decided I want to try not to exceed 1k words. These are meant to be short pieces. For MJF I was given the number twenty-five and the song that came up was On Your Own by No Fit State.

“Oh _please_ ,” a chuckle chased his breath and smeared that smile wide across his smug, handsome face. He glanced Wardlow, the ever-present shadow lurking like a tower over his shoulder as if to say: _Can you believe this?_ And, true to character, Wardlow did nothing and said nothing, but MJF accepted it as participation. His dark eyes swung back toward you and they had that little bright light they sometimes got when Maxwell was a little too excited about something. Your gut had a mix of reactions, excitement and fear tangled up together, knowing exactly how MJF worked.

After all, you’d been in his entourage for the last three months and when you were in with Maxwell, you were **in**. When you were out…

You had a vivid flashback to Cody Rhodes, jaw clenched in pain, red welts rising along the definitive, worked muscles on his back, neck, and chest. A shiver crawled across your body and you refocused on Maxwell, who seemed to be patiently waiting, letting you sort through your thoughts and second guess what you’d just said. Waiting for you to come to the conclusion he wanted you to come to.

“You’d be ** _nothing_** without me,” he reminded you with another grin and a higher arch to one brow.

_That’s not true_ – you wanted to say – you’d made it this far without him. To be signed with All Elite Wrestling. You did that all on your own. But as soon as you inhaled to speak, gathering your thoughts, the black of his pupils sharpened on your face and the courage leaked out of you like air let out of a balloon. He _had_ helped you, that much was true. He’d approached you, told you he’d seen something in you, and asked if you’d let him be your mentor. You’d been beside yourself to be approached by one of the roster’s more prestigious members, especially someone like MJF, who didn’t seem to trust or care for very many individuals. Plus… you couldn’t help the way your body _responded_ to him.

Maxwell was sharp. He used every tool he had, and when he’d realized his power over you – the prestige, the attraction – he used them as tools to lure you further into the spider’s web. Now he was wrapping you in silk, promising you everything would be okay, and your instincts were screaming at you to run and get out of there before it was too late.

“Do you really want to be on your own again?” He asked, and his voice almost took a soft, concerned note. You’d buy it if not for the way the arrogance played at the lines of the expression he wore. He reached out, wide hand cradling your chin with a gentility he only showed to you when you’d been on your best behavior. It was the kind of sweetness that made your body ache and your soul crave more. It was almost unfair how easily he could manipulate it. Someone who could be so flippantly careless shouldn’t have the ability to pour compassion into a single touch the way he did.

“You don’t want to leave me, right?” Softly, he mimicked a gentle pout, as if the thought of you leaving him was upsetting. His thumb and forefinger still gently caught your chin, and he playfully moved your head slightly back and forth as if to make you say no before you’d even said the word.

“Well, I-” you started, still trying to hold tight to the reasons you’d come into the discussion. You could feel them slipping through the cracks in your fingers, like all your excuses you’d marched in here with were granules of sand you were desperately trying to hold in your fist.

“Shhh, sh, sh,” he chided with a whisper, silencing you. His voice remained sweet, but the grip of his fingers on your chin squeezed with a warning of pressure. “Sweetheart,” he clicked his tongue, brows dipping sympathetically inward as he looked at you, “I’m the best thing for you. If you leave now, you’re going to be nothing again.” Those squeezing fingers stopped so the back of his knuckles could tenderly brush your cheek. Despite yourself, you leaned your face toward his touch and felt your soul sigh. Only Maxwell could give you the love you craved.

And somehow, he always made you forget the fact that he was the one who denied you it when you wronged him and used that affection like a leash to keep you obedient to him. You’d danced with the devil and you’d thought you wanted him far behind.

“Say it.” He whispered again, but there was a command that made it a little more pointed. “Say you were wrong, and you don’t want to leave me.”

But the devil didn’t want to let go.

“I was wrong,” your voice shook, and your subordinance lay in the sweet fear he evoked that gently lapped at the ends of your words. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Triumphant, a smile broke across his face. It lit up his expression with an almost boyish exuberance, highlighting how handsome he was. “You know just how to make me happy,” he said, still smiling, and caught your chin firmly again. He pulled you up, straining your neck, and bent to brush his full, warm lips over yours. Achingly, you leaned into the kiss; your body craved more.

This time, because you’d done as he asked, Maxwell rewarded you. He sank into the kiss, and pressed his tongue into your mouth, groaning gently as if the taste of you was all he’d wanted all along.

**Author's Note:**

> You danced with the devil  
> To keep you company  
> Now you sold your soul  
> And he has got you to your knees  
> Where you gonna run now?  
> Where you gonna go?  
> Where you gonna run now?  
> And now you’re on your own  
> You danced with the devil  
> Now you want him far behind  
> He will not let go he’s like a  
> thorn in your side  
> Where you gonna run now?  
> Where you gonna go?


End file.
